Well,
a lesser-known and far scarier place is Dimension "Zed." Dimension
X is a tame suburb of dimension Zed, as far as dimensions go. Populated
largely by sentient vines, the Wendigo, shambling 60-foot tall piles
of hair (Yarmouths), and midgets with exoskeletons and green blood
(1), Dimension Zed was discovered by Action Squad members Joe Rebel
and Max Action several years ago when they discovered a pocket of
dimensional cross-over in an innocuous patch of forest between Burnsville
and Prior Lake. (This is also where the "Hole in the Ground in the
Woods" was located, for those of you who have been reading this
site from the beginning.) Only oodles of luck and their amazing
ability to survive under the most ludicrously dangerous and unexpected
circumstances allowed them to escape this initial interdimensional
journey, and begin a lifetime of research into Dimension Zed.

Years
after that discovery, but still years ago, we discovered another
tear in the fabric of reality itself where a bit of Dimension Zed
slipped into our world. The "Bridge to Dimension Zed" is seen by
thousands of people every day, but, testifying to its power, actually
noticed by almost none. Skulking above I-94 just west of Snelling
Avenue in Saint Paul, this mockery of all things sane and rational
strikes the casual passer-beneath as a standard bridge of concrete
and metal. Closer examination (which we do not recommend, as there
is an established detrimental effect on one's mental health and
sexual vigor resulting from such study), however, reveals that this
is not the case.

Even
from the road at 65 miles an hour, it is obvious that this is no
ordinary bridge. For starters, it emerges from a blank cement wall,
and there is every sign that this has been so since it first existed.
Secondly, it goes across the highway and into a blank metal wall
(the side of a nearby railroad bridge). Further examination reveals
that the guard railings on either side of the bridge are only a
couple of feet high … not coincidentally, they would only be useful
to someone the height of a carnivorous green-blooded midget from
another dimension.

For
years, we recognized this construction for what it was: a portal
from and possibly to Dimension Zed. However, our every attempt to
locate the Bridge from anywhere but the highway below proved completely
futile. Clearly, something, somehow, was preventing us from conducting
in-depth exploration. It
seemed that further research into this ominous phenomenon was impossible,
and our efforts came to a standstill.

Two
vital occurrences needed to take place before anyone was able to
conquer the Bridge. First was the formal formation of Action Squad.
Second was the ingestion of 48 fluid ounces of Super America cappuccino
by both Agent Wop and Max Action one unseasonably warm night in
January of 2003. We set off toward the East from Minneapolis at
10 PM, with troubled minds, knowing that we might never see our
loved ones or dimension again.

On
I-94, we felt an almost electrical charge building as we drew nearer
the Bridge. At the moment we drove beneath it, the radio turned
itself on and began playing R.E.M.'s "It's the End of the World
As We Know It" at ear-splitting levels, the tint vanished from the
car windows, and the reservoir of windshield-washing fluid turned
to blood.

Our
wills unbowed, we pressed on in our quest for access to the mysterious
Bridge. Fortunately, years of training and experience from Action
Squadding, in conjunction with the biochemical and psychic-vibrational
effects of massive doses of gas station coffee, proved adequate
to overcome the mind-clouding effects of the Bridge. This time,
we found it with minimal trouble.

Several
pointy chain-link fences and a swamp later, the two of us stood
on the brink of forever and never, the Bridge stretching out before
us, directly into the thick steel wall of the railroad bridge.

Waiting until no cars were approaching, we scaled a final fence
and dropped down onto the bridge itself. Moving in a commando-crawl,
we crossed the highway without incident and arrived at the imposing
steel barrier on the other side. Interestingly, although the railings
stopped at this point, the concrete platform of the bridge continued
beneath the railroad bridge, leaving a space ideal for a sentient
vine to slither along.

There
were no sentient vines crossing at the moment, however, so we altered
our mode of locomotion from "crawl" to "slither" and continued across
the lunacy of a bridge, below the railroad bridge and above the
westbound lanes of I-94. Once clear of the other side of the railroad
bridge, the Bridge Itself terminated by running smack into a cement
wall, just as it had on the south side of the highway.

We took readings with the little blinky-light things that the Ghostbusters
also used, pissed in some bushes, hid from a passing evil wizard,
and then doubled back for the return trek. Unbeknownst to me, Agent
Wop had made a fateful decision. At least, I hope he chose freely,
and had not been hypnotized by the murderous siren song of Dimension
Zed. As we approached the blank cement wall of the south side, he
broke into a run. I assumed he was going to take a running leap
and scale to the top and back into saner realms.

I
was wrong.

Instead,
he ran unflinchingly into the cement wall itself. There was a dark
flash of light and a screeching silence, and he vanished into the
wall.

Zed,
where the laws of time and space do not apply. Where the Wendigo
roams and your hair turns white afresh each morning when you open
your eyes and see your surroundings. Where the concepts who, what,
where, when and why are interchangeable. Zed ...where no man has
ever gone before and lived to tell the tale.

I
returned to Minneapolis alone, with a heavy, troubled heart and
heavy, troubled bowels. As I passed westward beneath the Bridge
to Zed, I swear that I saw a crusty little midget peeking over at
me and giving me the finger, laughing.

As
of this writing, Agent Wop has not returned from this lunatic adventure.
I fear that he is gone forever.

Let
this dark tale be a tribute to our fallen comrade, as well as a
warning to all who read it. The moral of the story is this: stay
away from Dimension Zed, because it will kill you and being dead
is a bad thing to be stayed away from.

*
Footnote 1: Some researchers contend that former St. Paul Mayor
and current U.S. Senator Norm Coleman (R-MN) crossed over from Dimension
Zed, using the Bridge. While this hypothesis seems quite well-supported
by available physical evidence, spokesbeings from Zed angrily deny
this charge as "insulting and inaccurate."